i really like the idea of [non-powered] hal and barry meeting and falling in love sometime during the late 1900s — like, in the ‘50s or ‘60s.
picture bartholomew allen, a dedicated forensic scientist with dork-ish charms and an endearingly gentle grin on his face; who wears bowties and suspenders over dress shirts tucked into high waisted pants; who works hard to solve cases way past home time, coming home near midnight to his quiet, quaint apartment only to eat dinner and listen to some of his mom’s old vinyls in order to help him fall asleep, which at times causes him to wake up a tad bit too late, and because he can’t go to work with a bedhead, it becomes one of his many reasons for being ever so tardy.
and harold jordan, the ace test pilot of ferris aircraft, with sharp features and an amorous smirk to match; who dons aviator sunglasses that hide the tiniest hints of heartbreak radiating from a pair of warm brown orbs, and a bomber jacket, far too old and worn to be his own; who finds thrill in treating every test flight as if it’s his last (almost like he wants it to be); who trudges over the mess of his apartment every night, lighting up a cigarette, bringing it to his mouth and leaning against the kitchen counter as he absently tunes into whatever new songs the stones or beatles play on the radio.
they meet at the supermarket one day, when a hungover hal — tiredly browsing for his weekly groceries — is knocked onto the ground by a bumbling barry, who’d kindly offered a colleague to run some food errands during their break. he’s already running late, and this rather fine man is staring him down (although he’s technically looking up) with a bit too much contempt for his liking.
chaos, not to mention the love story of the decade, ensues.
